Page 38 of The Vendetti Soldier

His fists in my shirt relax, patting the material before he pulls me in for a hard hug. “I love you, Santino. Never forget, I will always have mio famiglia’s best interest in mind. Always.”

“I love you too, fratello.”

“I won’t let Mischa get hurt. I will make sure she’s protected, and with you as her marito, she’s already safer than you realize. You remind me of myself when I was your age. I would’ve buried anyone threatening my wife.”

“You still would.”

He nods, a smirk twisting his lips up. We take our seats once more. This time he sighs, growing frustrated, and meets my stare. I notice something different shining in his gaze than before, and I don’t know how to read it. Is he disappointed insomething? Sad? I’m not used to it from him, so I remain quiet, not sure what to say.

“I asked to see you today since everyone is gone,” he admits. It’s just him and me here today; everyone not with the wives had other business to take care of. I was surprised he didn’t have something he wanted me to do, but obviously this is why. He continues, “I have news. I think Valentino knows where Fiadh is.”

I sit up, eyes wide with interest and shock. “He does? Is he sleeping with her again?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. He never stopped his own search for her, no matter how much he pretended to. He’s been obsessed with her from the start.”

“So what are we going to do?” This could be the chance we’ve all been waiting for. We’ll finally have her whereabouts and can bury her along with anyone else with the same blood. They all need to die, and maybe once the bloodline is expunged completely, our famiglia can move on.

“Nothing, fratello. We’re going to sit back and let him take us to her.”

“You think he’ll betray us?”

“I think a Vendetti in love is a blind man. I think anyone trying to get in our way when it comes to the person we love is a fool.I won’t be the idiot who gets in his way right now, but I’ll be waiting for when she fucks up and we find her.”

“And then?”

“I’ll bury her.”

There’s the brother I know.

He’s not being reckless with the Irish; he’s being the typical Matteo Ruthless Vendetti I’ve known my entire life. And when he’s ready to take Fiadh O’Toole down, I’ll be right there beside him.

Because when you come for the Empire, you pay the price… inblood.

Epilogue

Hope is the last thing ever lost. - Italian proverb

Mischa

“It’s here! Did youhear me? I said it’s fucking here, Misch, now get your pretty little ass out of the bathroom!” My brother demands as I stare at the tiny printed-out picture. I saw it on the screen in much better detail. The moving. The little nose…

And the other nose.

They’re adorable. I’m already in love and so damn happy, but how do I explain it? Santino has made it more than clear hewants me to have his baby first, while Luciano has been vocal about doing everything in his power to make sure I’m pregnant by him first. I mean, that is what the breeding room is all about. To fulfill theBlood Oath. Marry a Vendetti. Have his baby, preferably in a two-year period. And never leave.

Not that I’d ever want to, because I’m ridiculously in love… but this changes things. What if one of them is angry when they find out the other is a father? What if this life-changing event is what tears the four of us apart? Another tear drops, tracking down my cheek, and I swipe it away. This is ridiculous. I’m being ridiculous right now. This is exactly what they wanted. What I want.

So why is the niggling ‘what if’ still scratching in the back of my mind? Why does my gut clench with the reality of having to disappoint one of them? It’s because I love both men, Santino and Luciano, far more than I should. I was only supposed to fall for Santino while having Luciano as a happy added bonus. It’s not how things have gone down since I sat down at the dining table and our fates were sealed. It’s been one roller coaster ride to the next, always something going on around here to have us clutching to the other, making every moment counttogether.

“Mish! Are you pooping?” Rorick calls, and I swear I love my brother, but at times like right now, I want to throttle his too-pretty face.

Drawing in a deep breath, I pat a clean towel against my face, then fan the skin a touch, hoping it helps my nose appear less pink. Our lack of regular vacations on tropical islands has me sorely lacking in the tan department, so it’s harder for me tohide when I’ve been crying. I’m not a crier, but these hormones have me being ridiculous to the point even I can recognize my crazy and attempt to reel it in. “Will you shut your face?” I’m grumbling as I open the bathroom door. “You’re like an excited poodle. Nobody wants to deal with an overeager poodle, Ror.”

He rolls his eyes, then he’s beaming. “You talk shit, but wait until you see it. Fucking epic.”

“Is it blood-red-lace-wedding-dress epic, though?”

“It’s better,” he claims, hurrying over to the massive item he’s covered with the front of a tall box. It has to be as tall as I am, which has my brow raising in curiosity. “Ta-da!” he sings, ripping the box away.

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